Sequel, Actually
by Oh Mr. Darcy
Summary: From the Heathrow Terminal to Jamie and Aurelia's engagement party, most of the characters think of their present situations and reflect on love, actually (basically, like the title says, a sequel to the movie). Ch. 1 - Mark & Juliet


**Disclaimer: **We could always pretend that Jamie and Mark belong to us, but alas, it's really all from Richard Curtis' brilliant mind! The plot, movie title, boys… it's all his! …Oh gosh, that gives a bad, weird thought, doesn't it? (E: My partner has a weird mind, excuse her)

**Authors' Notes: **E. & B.: Hi! We're two girls who, inspired by Mr. Darcy, decided to remedy the serious lack of _Love Actually_ fan fics here. Note that this story continues directly from the last part of the movie, outside of the Heathrow terminal. We've decided, as much as possible, to put in the POVs of characters heavily involved in the pairings from the film, so we hope it isn't too confusing.

Majority of them (at least, the ones that had an impact on us – for example, in this chapter, only Juliet and Mark's perspectives are shown, since Peter's view wasn't too delved upon originally) will make appearances here, each chapter devoted to a couple or triangle. The chapter titles are taken from the places where the events occur, and we'll be going further into the fic in a 'as time passes' way – unlike in the movie, were so many things happened simultaneously. We hope this decreases chances of confusion. Anyhow, enough with the rambles – we hope you enjoy our attempt at a sequel, actually. ;-)

**Legend: **_thoughts, written words,_ (foreign words – Portuguese, French - English versions are better than unsure, grammatically incorrect ones / author notes)

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_**Sequel, Actually**_

_By: Oh, Mr. Darcy (a.k.a. Eliza Darcy and Bridget Darcy)_

**1. ****Taxi Seating Arrangements**

* * *

It was a beautiful day. The sky seemed to be on its best behavior, displaying its clearest and bluest hues. The sun was no exception, deciding not to shine to the point of blindness, but just enough to boast of how it lit the world up perfectly. Nothing appeared to contrast the happy mood set by her surroundings – heck, even Peter, her husband, was all smiles. They had just come from a _very_ enjoyable trip to Madrid, after all.

So why couldn't Juliet find any reason to smile?

She slumped out of the Heathrow Airport terminal, flanked by Peter and Mark, his best friend, on either side. Both men assumed the roles of bodyguards, making sure that no heavy duffel or carrier bag would burden her fingers. She was treated like a princess, with Peter and Mark responding to her every whim (especially her desire for pecan pie). Juliet heaved a tiny sigh, digging her hands into the pockets of the jacket Peter had given her the day before. She continued her staring contest with the floor, knowing that its stark whiteness held no surprises for her. It was just flat, consistent, and bare.

"Honey, I think it's time you quit admiring the floor and stepped into the cab," Peter teased, holding a hand out for her to take.

Juliet smiled weakly, instinctively about to reach for it, when the sight of Mark's struggle with numerous bags caught her eye. It tickled her to see him scampering about, trying to balance everything and simultaneously piling it into the car's trunk. She felt the corners of her lips tug upwards – he was just so cute!

Peter cleared his throat, and Juliet immediately looked back at him. She reddened slightly, and took his proffered hand. She let him guide her into the cab, with her scooting to the farthest side. The guys went on with their task while she absently stared out the window, listening to the driver hum the tune of Billy Mack's "Christmas Is All Around". Juliet giggled. It wasn't just how funny the driver sounded, humming the tune out with a cigarette in between his lips, but the song itself brought back memories – the kind that made her either flush with delight or cringe with guilt.

The thing was, Juliet heard that song play the night that she found out about Mark's feelings for her. It was in the background when she skipped down the stairs and opened the door to find Mark and his flashcards. It probably, in a crazy way, influenced him to come up to her and admit how he really thought of her. And it was the last thing she heard before she sank into a confused, remorseful state.

She saw Mark making faces at Peter, who was cursing at the gargantuan box of souvenirs that wouldn't fit at the back of the car. Juliet thought she heard Peter curse, demanding that Mark help him stuff it in the passenger seat of the cab. Mark, in turn, rolled his eyes and in the process, caught Juliet's. Stunned, the pair gazed at each other with equal intensity.

Mark looked away first. He shot Juliet a small smile, and walked over to where Peter was. As they dealt with the problematic package, Juliet felt like she could relate to the big, brown object they were tossing around. The difference was, however, the package had a sure seat to fall upon; while if she attempted to do anything, she was sure she'd end up nowhere.

Shaking her head, Juliet decided to try and find something else to focus on besides the triangle she was involved in. Yes. They were going somewhere… Jamie Bennet and Aurelia Barros's engagement party! She recalled how happy and relaxed they looked when they met at the terminal. Juliet remembered how restless she was at _her_ own wedding. She was so harried, excited, blissful…

A quick mental image of Mark's videotape of her wedding suddenly came to mind. Juliet shut her eyes in frustration. Were all her thoughts leading her back to her little dilemma with Mark and Peter?

Why did Mark have to be so… honest? Why had _she_ provoked him to begin with? Why was Peter acting oblivious to all this? In Mark's eyes, she saw what she was now denied: a chance to stoke the flame that had undoubtedly sparked between them. With Peter, she had security; he was her rock, the structure she could lean on, supporting her. She was torn by desire and duty. How sure was she that being with Mark was worth sacrificing that security she longed for? He was an artist, abstract in thought and deed. Could she handle that? And was staying with Peter, though morally right, enough to make her forget the ecstasy she felt when her lips briefly brushed Mark's?

In a last minute attempt to stay sane, she thought of how adorable Aurelia was, especially with her tries at speaking the English language.

She had said, "Jaime's friends are so good-looking! He never tells me this. I think now, maybe I make the wrong choice, pick wrong Englishman?"

Juliet paused. She vaguely watched Peter slipping into the car beside her, followed by Mark. She glanced at both of them briefly, innumerable emotions surging through her. She realized how much she agreed with Aurelia on both counts: yes, that Jamie's friends were good-looking, and yes, that she might've made the wrong choice as well and picked the wrong Englishman.

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He never would've thought it possible to fit the entire world into one small, cramped, rickety cab, but just the same, there it was and there he was, and the truth was undeniable. Juliet was fumbling to arrange her legs in the small space allotted, and Peter beckoned him with a quick gesture that seemed to say, 'come on, we haven't got all day'. Mark watched them both and nodded to himself. Right then, everything he cared about, compressed into that ridiculously small area. Waiting for him…

To what?

He leaned his frame against the cab. "I think I'm going to catch another-," he began, but already he saw refusal in the eyes of his friend.

"Come on," Peter said, "I promise, we've all showered here."

Mark rolled his eyes and crossed his arms. "Are you sure? Because there were a few times in college when-"

"Not in front of the bride!" Peter interrupted, blushing, with a grin wide as the Sahara. "Quit stalling and jump inside."

Was he stalling? Mark passed his gaze over to Juliet. She was making a point of not looking in his direction anymore, ever since that _look_ in the terminal. The one that had stilled his blood, stopped his heart, and made his mind short-circuit, the one that had at once elated him and made him curse silently. He never should've told her. He should've locked his door when she came calling in search of the wedding tape and not unlatched that silver bolt until she absolutely hated him. Or, if that was too much to ask for, then he should've at least kept silent on Christmas. But bloody, sentimental fool that he was…he had to tell her, didn't he. How his hands had trembled in their grip of that black permanent marker –a sign he should've heeded.

Now, she knew.

Everything. The word was heavy with meaning. Because he… loved her. In that peculiar way that demanded he think of her constantly. The way she brushed hair from her eyes was arresting. The smirk on her lips after she'd won an argument was endearing. The bounce in her step made him think that, perhaps, she was meant to fly, and he wanted nothing more than to raise her into the sky, where he could worship her forever. He adored her in that never-ending sort of way.

Seeing her see him in the terminal, like she was really seeing him for the first time had been _incredible_. Enlightening. Wonderful.

And awful.

She wasn't just any girl, on such a variety of levels. Yes, she was his angel, but she was _Peter's_ _wife_. And Peter was the only other person that mattered.

Mark's family tree wasn't exactly stretching its limbs across great plains; he'd be lucky if it survived his passing. And his friendships, for that matter, were mostly of the 'holidays and special occasion' sort, rather obligatory. But Peter was his brother in arms, the best friend, the kindred spirit. For so long, they'd had just each other, through the parade of girlfriends and struggles of school and work and life.

Mark loved Juliet, but he loved Peter, too. Too much to steal his happiness.

He never should've shared that videotape. Or made the admission of love. At times, he'd thought he could end it there. True, he'd had some quantity of wine, but even in the harsh truth of daylight, it could've worked. If only…

He hadn't meant to make her doubt. She should've gone on loving Peter, without question, until the end of time. But fate was so cruel at times, a twisted joker who insisted on the world bending to his will. She'd looked at him in the terminal like she was searching. For what? A reason to love him? To not love Peter? Was it pity, or curiosity, or reciprocation she was trying to convey? And didn't she know, couldn't she see, wasn't it obvious just how huge a mess they were getting tangled up in? Any deeper, and they might never be free. Any closer to the blade, and they'd all lose their heads.

And just what was he supposed to do about it? They were, it seemed, waiting for him.

To what?

He sighed again and looked at the crowded passenger seat. If life were a crowded cab, he asked himself, and there was no place to sit but with the two people whom you love unequivocally, would you still ride?

Mark looked to Peter, who raised an impatient eyebrow. He shook his head and slid inside, draping the written address over the cab seat so the driver could hold it. "This is where we're going," he said easily. A friend's engagement party. Not the most, practically, of first stops, but much more memorable.

Peter leaned into him and asked, "Do you think it'll be a long ride?"

Mark shrugged. "Probably a small journey. But look at the company."

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**Authors' Notes: **How was it? Sad? Bad? Made you glad? Please don't hesitate to let us know your thoughts on our fic by clicking our friend, the Review Button! He likes the attention, let us say that. Thanks for reading, and the next chapter, featuring another well-loved couple from the movie, should be coming soon! 


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